#barbara tomash

[smallpressdistribution]

arboreal

the architecture of language

as long as trees last

seek the counsel of trees

arbor vitae

experience in the medium of destruction

rough knowledge

tree language

[awordforlivingcreatures]

Not Yet

The whisper, again, of not yet: not yet light, not yet birds, not yet - 

him. A waiting. The moment between inhale and release. An in-betweenness, 

a fullness, the pause before the rush of wings, of orange touching blue.  

A stillness, waiting. The girl, 

too, waiting. No, not yet. She lets go. She lets go 

the birds, the light, him. She moves into 

the whisper: not yet, not yet, not yet. 

She calls nothing back.

- inspired, in part, by Barbara Tomash’ Flying in Water